I want to start by thanking everyone for their genuine concern over my injured labia.
I have been giving it plenty of rest and refraining from strenuous workouts. I think I will grow it out in honor of Vajanuary, a non-profit that raises awareness about female genital self-mutilation.
Or I’ll just wear these panties.
I am part way through my holiday drive-fest, stopping over in Michigan to pick up grandma on our way to Pittsburgh.
We blazed out of Boulder at 5am on Sunday and drove 24 hours straight through.
Even though I got a few hours of sleep when we arrived, I felt dazed all day.
Is there a word for when you get off a boat and you still feel like you are in a boat? Now is there a version of that for after you stop driving but feel like you are still moving?
Well, it’s like that that. That’s how I felt all yesterday which was cool because all I had to do was walk around grandma’s house and pick out stuff to bring home and do really easy puzzles.
My brother-in-law is here with us and he’s super conservative. And he’s a doctor, which is to say that he is educated. But so is Ben Carson. Anyway, I wonder if he is just fucking with us because yesterday at lunch he said, in all seriousness, that he is going to vote for Trump because he thinks Trump is what America needs.
He loves to talk politics. I hate to talk politics. Not because I don’t have convictions, but because I suck at political debate. I usually just get frustrated and start crying. But Roy was cornering me and really wanted to engage me on the whole refugee debate.
He usually leaves me alone but maybe because there is no one else around, he decided to go at it with me. Of course my idea of “going at it” with Roy is to drink a lot of wine and say stuff like, “Where’s Maggie?”
Maggie is his daughter who is a professor at Princeton, brilliant, and pretty much calls bullshit on everything he says without pulling any punches.
I like it better when Maggie is around because I just stand behind her and go, “Yah!” and “What she said.” and “Take that!” and “Oooh, burrrrnnn.”
But instead I drank lots of wine and sat at the table with a frozen smile while my hair blew back at all the talk of genetic predispositions to awesomeness, the need for tall walls, and why the privileged class exists – because they are inherently better.
Says the white man.
But at least he’s talking to me and engaging, which is pretty great because I like Roy and even though he dishes it, he can take it.
He doesn’t get mad when you disagree, he genuinely wants to scrap and Loony likes to get in there by saying stupid shit just to keep it interesting. And Roy doesn’t hold a grudge so even though his political ideas are weird to me, it doesn’t get weird in a get me the fuck out of here kind of way.
I just need to wait for his daughter to get here, then he’ll be sorry.
I like Loony’s take on it, “It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without at least one Trump supporter.”
Meanwhile, I have been getting fun texts from Blue.
I left him at home because Roy’s dog in an asshole (I’m sorry but it’s true).
But you know that person who is always like, “Everyone always bites and tries hump me all the time!” Maybe they are the asshole. Think about it.
That didn’t come out right.
You know, when someone always has bad experiences, maybe it’s because they are the problem. Like the person who always dates assholes. Maybe they are the asshole.
This isn’t working. And my editor is all slow. I blame the Starbucks free wi-fi. That’s what I can’t express myself. And I blame T-mobile for saying no more data for you! God.